iBuddy
by iLikeToWriteFanfiction
Summary: Carly is diagnosed with severe anaphylaxis and gets a service dog to detect peanuts.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! I'm back! I know I haven't been writing for like 6 months now, but I'm trying to get restarted. Soo, here goes! **

Carly's eyes fluttered open.

She stared right up at a plain white ceiling.

With plain white lights.

She studied the room she was in.

Plain gray cabinets and sink.

Plain green chairs.

She was in a bed.

In a hospital.

Carly tried to recollect the events of the past day.

At least, she came here yesterday, right?

Her mind was so foggy.

She remembered not being able to breathe.

She remembered the sirens, Sam and Spencer telling her to hang on.

But why? She couldn't figure out why.

She observed the IV in her right arm and the heart monitor beside her.

She stared out the open door. Every once and awhile, a nurse would go by. She tried to get their attention, but she felt too weak to call out and could only emit a few whines and moans.

Finally, a nurse poked her head inside.

"So you're awake!" she exclaimed.

Carly nodded weakly.

The nurse left but soon returned with a doctor.

Carly tried to speak. "Why…why a-am I here?"

The doctor turned to the nurse. "She can speak okay," he said. The turned to Carly. "Carly, I am Dr. Peterson. Can you understand me all right? How are you feeling?"

Okay, did this guy think she was stupid or something? "I feel… I feel ti-tired. Where's Spencer? Why… Why am I here?"

"She can remember her brother, that's great. She's suffered no brain damage."

The nurse nodded.

"Carly, Spencer left for some lunch. Are you hungry too?" asked Dr. Peterson.

"No, I'm okay. But why am I here?"She could speak clearer now.

"Carly, you had an anaphylactic reaction to peanuts. You stopped breathing for about 12 minutes. You've been in a coma for two days. We'll have an allergist come see you today in about an hour. Get some rest now." And with that, Dr. Peterson left.

Carly didn't sleep.

She stayed awake until the allergist came in.

"Carly Shay?"

"That's me." She tried to smile.

"I'm Dr. Reiss. I'm here to discuss some options for your anaphylaxis. Do have any idea how deadly anaphylaxis is in your case?"

Carly shook her head.

"It's extremely deadly. In fact, the doctors don't expect you to survive a second attack."

Carly gasped. "How likely am I to have another attack?"

"It depends. Do your family and friends enjoy peanuts?"

"My best friend loves peanuts. In fact, she loves just about anything edible."

"Well, Carly, you have about two options. You can live out your life trying to avoid peanuts, or trace amounts of peanuts. But frankly, I don't think that will work. You can come in contact with peanuts unknowingly and have an attack."

Carly shuddered."What's the other option?"

"Your other option is much more expensive but I think it may pay off. Carly, how would you feel with a service dog?"

"A … service dog?"

"More precisely, an allergy alert dog. A dog can detect scents of peanuts much better than any human could. It's much safer, in my opinion. The dog would have to go everywhere with you, including school, the mall, and especially restaurants. I've talked with your guardian about this, too. He agrees, but he says it's up to you."

"Would it be kind of like a pet, too?" asked Carly.

"A service animal usually is treated as a pet at home. Put when out in public the dog is a working animal and you don't worry about him, you go about your daily life. You don't hug it or pet it while it's working. It's a service animal. In correct terms, no. It's not a pet."

"I'll think about it."

**OK. I just feel I should let you know I made sure anaphylaxis can cause comas. Because I wasn't sure. **

**Please review! I'd really appreciate it! (: Thank you!**


	2. Spencer's Visit

**Okay. I know my writing looked a bit spotty in my last chapter. When I publish a story, for some reason the divider lines I put into my writing disappear. I'm experimenting with other ways to divide things up. :) **

****

Carly pondered the idea.

A service dog?

People would constantly ask about the dog. To pet the dog. To hold its leash.

She didn't want people staring. People pointing.

On the flip side, the allergist's words echoed in her head: "_The doctors don't expect you to survive another attack_."

Well, living with a service dog definitely beats dying without one, even if people did stare and ask.

Carly made up her mind. A service dog would do more good than harm, she decided.

****

Spencer tiptoed into the room. Carly was awake but engulfed in a magazine.

"Carly!"

"Hey, Spencer."

"How're you feeling?" Spencer inquired.

"I'm fine. Where are Sam and Freddie?"

"Sam's in the café downstairs. Freddie's at home sick with a cold. Did you talk to that allergist yet?"

"Yeah, I did. Did he say anything about-?"

"A service dog?" finished Spencer.

"Yeah," Carly said hesitantly. "What do you think?"

Spencer shifted in his chair. "I want the best for you, Carly. I think a service dog is safer but it'll cost us about eight thousand dollars," Spencer sighed.

"Dad can give us five thousand or so, can't he?" asked Carly.

"Sure, but where will we get three thousand more?"

"Family."

"We'll see, Carly. Get some rest. I've e-mailed a lady at a service dog agency and we've got a meeting with her at four-thirty."

Spencer left, leaving Carly by herself yet again.

What did she get herself into?

****

**Well, how'd you like it? Please review, I'd appreciate it greatly. (:**


	3. Homecoming

**OK, so I'm grounded from the computer for the whole summer, but luckily I can sneak in bit s and pieces of writing. But beware, updates are gonna be slower.**

Carly was released from the hospital the next day.

As she was wheeled down the hall to the door, she began to worry. What would Sam and Freddie think about a service dog?

If they're your real friends, they won't mind, thought Carly.

Sam, Freddie and Spencer all waited for her by the door.

"Hey, kid!" smiled Sam as she rolled through the doorway. "How ya feelin'?"

"Lots better," grinned Carly.

Carly rose from the wheelchair and thanked the nurse.

"Let's go!" called Freddie.

Everybody got situated in the car, Spencer driving and Freddie is the passenger seat, and Carly and Sam in the back (to keep Sam and Freddie from bickering, of course).

Everyone chatted on the drive home. "Remember Carly, you have a meeting with the service dog lady at four something, be ready," informed Spencer.

Carly had forgotten the meeting.

Sam and Freddie looked puzzled.

"What service dog lady?" Sam questioned.

"Uh…" Carly hesitated. "I…um… I might be getting a service dog for my allergies."

Freddie was immediately interested. "Really? What kind?" he inquired excitedly.

"I don't know, you guys can come to the meeting, I guess," Carly said, a little anxious about what her friends might think still.

"Awesome! What time? Four?" Freddie interrogated.

"I think. Something like that."

"Hey Carls, can I come too?" added Sam.

"Sure."

Sam and Freddie began chattering about what it would be like if Carly had a service dog. She tuned them out.

A service dog would be cool, thought Carly. People'd be all over me asking about the dog.

She stopped herself.

It would get annoying, eventually. Hopefully people know proper etiquette around a service dog. Everybody knows that you shouldn't pet a working dog in public, right? Even if someone does interact with it, I'm entitled to tell them off, aren't I?

Carly was jolted out of her thought as the car stopped.

"Now I've completely de-peanutized the entire apartment. You have to stay inside until we have a way to know whether or not you'll come in contact with peanuts. Try to raise some money, it'll be expensive," Spencer explained.

"No worries," said Freddie. "I'm sure we can find something to sell on iCarly to get money."

"Careful, remember the last time you guys asked for money on iCarly?" warned Spencer.

All three groaned.

"Don't remind us," whined Carly.

The four climbed up to Carly's apartment, where Carly collapsed onto the couch upon entering.

"Tired still?" grinned Freddie.

"No. I just miss this couch," replied Carly.

"Well you've to the next hour and a half to reacquaint yourself," Spencer commented, leaving for his room.

"Hey, let's see if we can think of anything to fundraise," suggested Freddie.

"Good idea, Fredbrick. Whatcha got?" Sam yawned.

"Hey. Remember that online auction we had a few months ago, and how popular Penny-Ts became?" asked Freddie.

"Yeah. Except for those heathen kids busted our business," spat Sam.

"Maybe we could do something like that. Auction more Penny-Ts. If they all sell like the one in the auction did, for three hundred dollars, it would take…" Freddie calculated in his head. "Sixty-seven Penny-Ts. But not everyone will pay three hundred dollars for a Penny-T, so that means if they sold for one hundred each, we'd have to sell two hundred. That shouldn't be too hard, assuming that one out of every…"

Freddie was cut short by a tremendous moan from Sam.

"Your nerd-talk hurts," Sam explained.

Carly and Freddie rolled their eyes.

"Okay, Freddie, who will make these Penny-Ts?" questioned Carly.

"Well, hopefully Socko's sister Penny will make them for free, assuming we provide the sayings on the shirts," Freddie said.

"Okay then. Sounds cool to me. Let's come up with some sayings right now," suggested Carly, striding over to the kitchen to retrieve a pencil and paper.

"One I personally like is Caged Pronoun," she said, jotting it down.

"How about Elastic Piglet?" mentioned Freddie.

"Or Atmospheric Banana," Sam added.

"I like Lonesome Hammer."

"Or University of Lard?"

Time after time each friend suggested another crazy saying to appear on a Penny-T.

"Okay, Carly, have Spencer text these to Socko and get them to Penny," instructed Freddie.

"Okay. Hey guys, I thought of a new idea for i—"

A sharp knock on the door interrupted her.

Carly's stomach lurched.

She forgot about the meeting.

Carly slowly apprehended towards the door.

She gripped the knob an opened it to see a dressed-down woman, not much older than thirty at the most, in skinny jeans and an event shirt for the Seeing Eye.

Right next to her sat a thin, sharp-looking, black-and-white Border Collie.

"Hello!" chirped the lady cheerfully. "I'm Cassandra Stafford, and this,"—she gestured towards the dog—"is Mack."

"H-hi," stuttered Carly. "I'm Carly Shay. I have, um, really bad allergies. Um, uh, please, come in, have a seat."

"Thanks!" smiled Cassandra.

Mack followed Cassandra through the door right by her side. Carly noticed a cherry-red vest adorned with things like **SERVICE DOG: DO NOT PET OR DISTRACT** and **SERVICE DOG TEAM**. He had a matching bright red collar with a glistening silver tag saying **SERVICE DOG: MACK.** His face had a jet-black mask with a bright white blaze sloping down his snout, broadening out into his white muzzle and his midnight-black nose. His fur wasn't long but it wasn't short. His inky black ears only pricked up halfway, and then they drooped back down again. His deep, chocolaty brown eyes gazed up at Carly lovingly, as if to say "I want to help you".

"So, I've been told that you've been recommended a service dog to detect peanuts for you?"inquired Cassandra.

"Yeah, but I don't know if we can pay for that," explained Carly nervously.

"Yes, adopting Mack will cost about 19,000 dollars."

Sam's jaw dropped, letting a plump green grape fall to the floor.

"Why does it cost that much?"wondered Freddie.

"Well, training, breeding, medical care, equipment, things like that. Anyhow, I need to see if you're eligible for one of our service dogs. Carly, how many anaphylactic reactions have you ever had?"

"J-just one, but my allergist recommended I get a service dog now, because they don't expect me to survive a second attack."

"Do you remember anything about the attack?" prodded Cassandra.

"No. But the doctors said i-it was triggered by peanuts and that I was in a coma for two days," Carly answered, feeling more confident.

"Well, our Mack has been trained to do average service dog things, like picking up dropped items and things like that, but he has been especially trained to detect minute amounts of peanuts and tree nuts." stated Cassandra.

Carly didn't like the use of the term "our Mack." He was going to be her service dog.

"Do you have any other dogs available for adoption?" asked Carly.

"Well, one family is fundraising for a black Labrador we have, Remington. And we have another family raising money for an Australian Shepherd, Toby. Our last dog, Jynx, still has 5 months of training left. What's wrong? Do you not like Mack?"

"No, I think he's a great dog!" Carly affirmed. "What do you guys think?" Carly looked at Sam and Freddie.

"Pretty dog," remarked Sam, who was lying on the floor.

Freddie replied, "I think he'd be a great service dog."

Carly turned to face Cassandra again and smiled. "See? We all think he'd be awesome for me."

Cassandra grinned back. "That's good to hear. Mack's a wonderful, loyal dog."

"Oh, I wanted to ask you something about Mack," remembered Carly. "Don't service dogs have to be hypoallergenic?"

"Not always. But you are allowed, by law, to enter any public place, and you cannot be told to leave because of your service dog, whether or not people have allergies."

Carly nodded. "I guess that'll be it for me."

Cassandra piped up, "Before I leave, I'd better explain some things to you, since you aren't able to take handling classes. When Mack detects an allergen, he could bark, scratch your leg, block your way to an allergen, or, say if you've actually picked an allergen up, he could knock it out of your hand. Keep in mind, he's not being aggressive, he's just protecting you."

Cassandra stood up. "Call me if you have any questions, and we'll meet back up as needed."

"Bye!" called Carly as Cassandra and Mack left the apartment.

Freddie checked his watch. "Hey guys, iCarly starts in 15 minutes," he announced.

"Oh, then we'd better be getting upstairs," said Carly. "Get up, Sam."

Sam made some incoherent noises, and then rolled over. She stuck her hand into the air. Carly grabbed it and yanked her up.

"Thanks, Carls."

"Ten minutes!" shouted Freddie, who had made his way upstairs already.

The girls rushed upstairs.

"So, we're gonna talk about Carly's plight, her service dog and the fundraiser?" verified Freddie.

Carly and Sam nodded and Freddie set to working on his camera.

Carly fished her PearPhone out of her pocket. "I'm going to text Penny and ask her about those Penny-Ts." She began to tap out her text message busily. After a few minutes, she stabbed the **SEND **button with her finger. "There. Sent."

Not even thirty seconds after Carly sent the text, her phone buzzed.

"She says, 'Fine with me. So you want 200 Penny-Ts, with 20 provided sayings on them. 10 of each saying. Lucky you, I'll make 'em for free!' and then she sent a winky face," read Carly.

She replied, "Awesome! thx penny! : P"

"Get ready, guys," said Freddie. "Forty-five seconds."

Carly frowned. "Okay. Ignore my desperate attempts at earning money to adopt Mack."

Sam rolled her eyes and the girls trudged to the center of the studio.

"Okay, in five… four… three… two…" Freddie signaled to his friends that they were live.

"I'm Sam!" smiled Carly.

"And I'm Carly!" responded Sam.

Carly put on a fake confused look. "Did we mix that up?"

"I think so." replied Sam.

"I'M Carly!" exclaimed Carly.

"And I'm SAM!"

"And this is iCarly!" They recited in sync.

"So, this past Friday, something veeerrrry scary happened," started Sam. "Carly almost died."

"I had a deadly reaction to peanuts, and I was in a coma for two days," explained Carly.

Sam looked solemn. "Two whole days of her life. Gone."

"So, we're teaming up with an agency called…" Carly looked at Freddie, who mouthed the words "Freedom Service Dogs". "…Freedom Service Dogs, to help get me a specially trained service dog to sniff out peanuts."

"But, this dog will cost Carly nineteen thousand dollars, to cover training, medical expenses, things, like that," continued Sam.

"So we're looking to you, the fans of iCarly, to help us pay. So I don't die!" smiled Carly.

"We'll be auctioning our famous Penny-Ts, made by our friend Penny, to earn money, so check back after the show to see all the available shirts," explained Sam.

"Well, looks like we're out of time! See y'all!"

Carly and Sam waved.

"AAANNNNDDD, we're clear!" announced Freddie. "Let's go downstairs so I can work on the webpage for the auction."

"Good idea, Fredork," Sam responded.

Freddie put this camera away and the trio sauntered downstairs.

Freddie situated himself in the black chair with his laptop and Sam collapsed onto the couch. Carly sat in the little remaining room and flicked on the television to America Sings.

A middle-aged guy with a curly blond afro sang "Never Say Never."

"You know, on second thought, maybe I don't want to watch TV," said Carly, turning it off.

Freddie was busily typing away at his laptop.

"What are you making?" Carly asked, getting up to peer over Freddie's shoulder.

"A page explaining why we're selling the shirts."

Carly noticed a picture of herself in the hospital.

"What is THAT?" demanded Carly, pointing to the picture.

"It's you," replied Freddie. "in a coma."

"I don't want people to see me with a breathing tube shoved down my throat and hives all over my face!"

"Fine!" whined Freddie innocently. "I'll take it down."

Carly huffed and returned to her spot next to the now unconscious Sam.

Without Sam awake, the bored Carly got up again and retrieved her laptop. After logging on, she searched "border collie". She clicked on the Zaplook article.

She looked at all the pictures, and then returned to the top to actually read the actual article.

The Border Collie is a medium-sized sheepdog breed native to Scotland. It is the most popular variety of collie.

Border collies are considered athletic, acrobatic, energetic and extremely intelligent, often cited as "the world's smartest dog breed."

Carly skipped the "History of the Border Collie" section and went right to "Temperament of the Border Collie".

The Border Collie is extremely energetic and intelligent, and should have a job or task to perform regularly to keep its mind occupied. Border Collies need vigorous mental and physical stimulation every day, and, if not administered, can result in destroyed furniture and carpets due to chewing or digging.

Carly highlighted the section that said : "have a job or task to perform regularly to keep its mind occupied" and stared at it.

Carly quickly exited the article as Spencer barged through the door, arms full with bags from the pet store.

"Carly! I got some stuff for your new do-og!" he sang, striding past her.

Carly got up to inspect to the new things.

"WAIT DON'T TOUCH THAT!" shrieked Spencer.

**OK, so I made a goal to have 2,191 words in this chapter. I met it, but then I couldn't find a place to stop so I just kind of had to stop abruptly.**

**:)**


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